


Safeword

by CoconutRum



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Bottom Will Graham, Choking, Consensual Non-Consent, Consensual Violence, Dubious Consent, Established Relationship, M/M, Murder Husbands, Possessive Hannibal Lecter, Public Sex, Rape Fantasy, Rough Body Play, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Top Hannibal Lecter, breath play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:33:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26039497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoconutRum/pseuds/CoconutRum
Summary: Will has a rape fantasy.  Hannibal brings it to life.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 22
Kudos: 230





	1. Negotiations

**Author's Note:**

> Consensual non-consent. Rape themes, please heed tags. Murder husbands for the win of the best ship ever.

“Are you sure that’s something you want, Will?” Hannibal’s hands cupped Graham’s jaw.

“Yes.” Will answered soberly. 

“And you understand safe-words are applicable and respected in both private and public places?”

“Why are we going over this? It’s not like I’m a child, nor like we’ve never discussed this before,” Will’s voice was tart with embarrassment.

“Say your safeword out loud, Will.”

“Winston,” he turned away, blush creeping into his cheeks.

He wasn’t used to expressing himself, such vulnerable facets of himself, even to Hannibal. 

“These fantasies you’re sharing are perfectly normal. You have nothing to be…”

“Look, the less I talk about it, the less fucked up I feel. Okay?” He cut off the psychiatrist with a searing kiss. “Just...something to keep in mind. For the future.” 

Hannibal bit gently at his neck, “Well...I can’t wait that long,” he lapped his tongue along Will’s lips, wanting to devour him. “So for now, we just do this.” His long fingers played along the ridges of the younger man’s ribs; nails threatening to pierce skin. 

In answer, Will moaned into his mouth. 

\-------------------------------------------------  
About 2 weeks later, Will was in a fit of cyclical rage and conflict over a case. He paced the floor of Hannibal’s office, fidgeting with his glasses, gesturing manically. 

Hannibal watched him patiently from his desk, privately jotting notes about Will’s triggers and reactions. 

“...There’s something missing! I just can’t put my finger on it. There’s got to be a link!!” Graham brushed his hair back from his eyes, one hand on his hip. Hannibal always found himself intrigued by Will’s moods and angst. Often wanting to bodily hurl him against the wall and envelop him in pleasure, simply to distract him with something good. Something he enjoyed. Given Will’s frustrations however, he decided against it for now, and assumed his stoic, placid, clinical mask of composure. 

“Will, I think you need to step away from the case for a moment.” Lecter leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. Will huffed, and came to sit on the edge of the desk, facing Hannibal; legs spread. Hannibal’s cock gave a pleased twitch at the sight.

The younger man threw his head back and groaned, “I just don’t know what I’m not seeing. I’ve been to the crime scene twice. Haranged every detail out of Crawford, did my stupid parlor trick, and *still*...” he rested his weight on his outstretched arms extended behind him. His breathing heavy. 

The doctor placed a hand on each of Graham’s thighs, and leveraged himself upward from his chair.

“What...what are you…”

Standing over him, Hannibal leaned in, pinning Will’s hands to the desk with his own, staring him down.

“You think too much, Will,” his dark lips hovered just above Graham’s, retreating as the young man tried to arch up to reach his mouth; making the younger man sigh in frustration. 

The taller man smirked at his prize, revelling in the power he had over him. How willingly Graham let his own slight frame be mounted by Hannibal’s own powerful body. 

“And you, are being a goddamn tease, Doctor Lecter.” Will wriggled in his grasp, trapping the older man between his legs.

His vision blurred as he was suddenly slapped across the face. His heart rate substantially increasing, he tasted the tang of blood inside his cheek.

“That’s no way to speak to your superior,” Lecter lurched forward and so delicately licked at the blood inside Will’s mouth, earning him a whine. 

Coming up for air, Hannibal brought his hands to Graham’s belt; the man beneath his weight making no attempt to stop him.

“What’s your safe word, Will?” Hannibal whispered, working the buckles and buttons with his long musician’s fingers.

“Are you serious???” Will huffed, but answered, seeing the look in Lecter’s eyes. “Winston.

He watched the doctor fluidly pull the fabric away.

“Just because I’m your patient, that makes you my ‘superior?’ “ Will chuckled breathlessly as Lecter freed his cock. 

Hannibal sank to his knees, staring up through sandy tousled hair. 

“As your doctor, it is my obligation to see to your...well being. And that includes stress levels.”

Without preamble, he sucked Will down to the hilt. 

Graham gasped, and hissed in pleasure as the doctor devoured him. A sliver of his brain wanted to check the locks. Anyone could just walk in.

That thought was promptly quashed as Hannibal began to languidly bob and slurp, making all number of lewd, delicious noises.

Will gripped the desk for dear life, nails leaving marks on the underside of the smooth surface.

\-----------------------------------------------------

The next night after work, Will was met at the door by Hannibal, shrugging into his ever elegant overcoat. The man could make a kitchen trash bag look sexy. His presence was astoundingly authoritative and Will felt a small shudder as he met his gaze.

“Going out?” He asked, starting to remove his own jacket.  
Hannibal caught his wrist, sending another thrilling rush of fear and pleasure through his gut.

“*We,* are going to dinner,” he said simply, his eyes boring into Will’s as though daring him to object.

Graham studied him for a moment. They ate at home so often, as Lecter preferred to fix his own meals, that this was definitely a change of pace and near cause to have his guard up.

“You’ve been so stressed at work lately, I thought I’d take you out for an evening.” Ever the gentleman, the doctor gestured through the doorway, waiting for Will to join him.

The brunette looked at him quizzically, “Okay. Where are we going?” he inquired, following the doctor to his car, taking the passenger seat.

“A restaurant of some repute. I know the chef personally.”

Of course you do, Will thought, as he gazed out the window at the glowing street lamps.

\--------------------------------------------

Hannibal parked in what looked like an abandoned lot, on the side of the building.

“I told you I knew them personally,” he explained, reading Will’s confused look, “It’s a Friday night and he insisted I not have to deal with public parking.”

The two went in the side door. Will was convinced it looked like some shady alley out of a Batman comic book. But, he followed, admiring the sway of Hannibal’s hips as he walked. The doctor held the door for him, a smile playing on his lips.

“After you, darling.” 

Graham felt his face go hot. 

They were seated at a private table, the chef greeting them personally. 

Hannibal all but groaned at the beautiful presentation of his own dinner; rack of lamb, paired with his favorite wine.

Will had the duck and a glass of bourbon. The doctor ‘tsked’ at his taste, but insisted he order what he liked.

The two dined to the sound of classical music accented by the gentle clinking of fine china and crystal. 

The doctor had worn his trademark blue suit, pulling the eye to the gold lowlights in his hair. The jacket hugged his well muscled chest, and frankly made Will’s head swim a bit. The pants had a similar if not stronger effect on him. 

“Tell me, Will,” Hannibal dabbed his mouth with a pristinely white napkin, leaving a stain of red wine from his lip, “Have you been in touch with Miss Bedelia Du Murier?”

The young profiler spluttered, then righted himself.

“Yes. For the case, why do you ask?”

Lecter eyed him hungrily, “You know she and I have a history of sorts, yes?”

“What kind of history? Strictly professional, right?”

The doctor ran the toe of his shoe up the inside Graham’s leg, prodding outwardly at his knee.  
Will swallowed hard.”

“We have a...complicated relationship,” the doctor drawled, pressing his foot inches from Graham’s crotch. “I hope you’re not asking her too many personal questions. Getting too...close...to certain subjects outside of your legal scope.”

Will made a quick note of how small the booth was before sliding back on the high backed bench, clearing his throat. He suddenly felt very warm, must be the bourbon, he thought.

The doctor’s eyes smoldered in the low light.

“You understand your involvement with her may lead Crawford to suspect you, right?” Will asked quietly.

“I could say the same goes for you, Will. Your interrogations of Miss Du Maurier could be seen as leading a witness, or tampering with verbal evidence in court.”

The young profiler wrought his brain as to whether or not that last statement was truly fact, and what it entailed. His brain was a bit fuzzy given the proximity of the doctor’s toes to his groin.

“I’ve asked her routine questions, mostly pertaining to her relationship with the victim. You came up in passing conversation; that you were one of her former patients, and that she confided in you following a rather nasty attack by a different patient of hers.”

Hannibal’s foot nudged under Will’s balls, making him jump. His own cock standing at rapid attention.

“Did she disclose any personal information to you?” Lecter asked, reaching into his pocket, and sliding to the edge of his seat, his other hand reaching forward across the table for Will’s.

In an effort to reassure the doctor, Graham took the older man’s hand between his own, and locked eyes with him; all the while trying to ignore the ache in his pants. 

“I promise, I would never intentionally betray your confidence Hannibal, but yes, she disclosed some details to me that you may consider to be personal,” Something dangerous flickered in the doctor’s eyes as he continued, “But I promise you, I will, to the best of my ability, keep any personal information out of my documentation, unless they are pertinent to the case.”

“ *The best of your ability* doesn’t sound very reassuring to me, Will…” Hannibal gave Graham a sinister grin, asserting, and tightening his own grip.

It all happened in a flash.

Lecter swiftly slammed both of Will’s wrists to the table, removing his hand from his pocket, producing a pair of handcuffs. 

Holding his gaze, and Graham momentarily too stunned to move, Hannibal cuffed the young man’s left wrist, stood, and moved to the other side of the table.

“Will Graham,” he hauled Will to his feet, spinning him around to cuff the man’s hands behind his back with a satisfying click of cold metal on hot flesh. “I am placing you under arrest in suspicion of your involvement with this case. You are suspect, and have the right to remain silent.”

The young profiler gasped as he was roughly shoved towards the door, nearly tripping on his own feet. Eyes stared at them, fighting to not look for too long, even from a distance. Hannibal kept a hand on Will’s left arm, pulling him along harshly. 

Breathless, he tried to speak, “Hannibal what the fu…”

A hand clawed at the back of his neck, wrenching his head upward.

“I would keep your mouth shut if I were you,” the doctor growled, jolting the man’s head back down; Will felt like he had whiplash. 

His brain was going a million miles a minute. He took inventory of the room, the time, even the temperature of the room. His own body temperature had spiked with the adrenaline. He had seen Hannibal snap with other people. He knew the man was dangerous; but it had never happened to him. 

He struggled weakly in the taller man’s grasp, taking stock in just how small he was compared to the psychopath.

Psychopath.

The word resonated in his chest. It was what Will feared all along. Had he been played? He had often toyed with the idea that the man was merely stringing him along as though he were just a chess piece. But their relationship. That wasn’t nothing. 

He choked down panic, feeling his lungs burn. His heart hammering painfully.

Hannibal threw the door open, now leading Will in front of him; a hostage. One hand clamped on the nape of his neck, one in a vice grip against both wrists. The metal bit into his delicate skin.

“What the hell are you doing? What did I say? What is…”

Will’s chest collided with the side door of the car, knocking the wind out of him. 

“I told you to keep your mouth shut,” Hannibal pressed Will’s face sideways to the rooftop, snarling in his ear. His breath hot and damp. 

Graham was panting; all too aware of his dick still remarkably painful from the man’s earlier ministrations. Both fear and for some ungodly reason... *excitement* were somehow colliding in his brain, and at that realization, absolute shame.

Satisfied with the positioning, Hannibal released his grip on Will’s head, making sure the man could hear what he was doing.

Will registered the unmistakable sound of the cocking of a gun.

Heart positively racing, Will tried to slow his breathing, but his body was still desperately trying to both simultaneously flee and freeze.

“Honestly, Hannibal, I don’t know what I need to do or…” 

The doctor grinned at how gorgeously the smaller man trembled under his touch. He set the gun on top of the car, the muzzle facing Will. His hand returned to the brunette’s curls, stroking them gently.

“Shut that pretty mouth of yours while you can still use your tongue, Will. That’s what I need you to do,” Hannibal purred. “Do you understand?”

Will whimpered, and weakly tried once more to wriggle free.

Pain lanced through his arms as the cuffs were mercilessly tightened further.

“I said, do you understand?” Lecter whispered, lip brushing Will’s ear.

The young man nodded, pathetically, against the icy car.

“Good,” Hannibal wrenched a knee between Will’s thighs.

“Now, spread your legs.”


	2. Fruition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will has a rape fantasy. Hannibal brings it to life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Consensual non-consent. Rape themes, please heed tags. Murder husbands for the win of the best ship ever.

“I’m going to pat you down.” He watched the younger man swallow. “You move...the gun goes in your mouth. Understood?” His words were so curt. Clinical even.

Will nodded again. He was shaking. Trying to steele himself for...for what? He was in the middle of an alleyway with a criminally insane serial killer. (Was there some other kind of serial killer?) He went over stupid facts in his mind. His name. The date. The location. What he was wearing. How bloody cold he was getting. How delicious Hannibal’s hands felt on him…

“Spread your legs further apart. Now.”

Firm hands gripped his hips, unceremoniously twisting and pulling. The corner of the door jutted out slightly against Will’s collar bone. He felt Hannibal cuff, cup, press, squeeze and pull at his inseam. Fingers clenched the outside of his calves, up and down his thighs, coming to rest on the holster of his Bureau gun. The doctor deftly removed the piece, putting it in his own belt without saying a word.

Hands came to his waist, and smoothed up and down his ribcage. Will shuddered. His cock growing impossibly and mortifyingly hard, pressing against the car door now. He tried to subtly move his hips backward to relieve some of the pressure. 

*Smack!*

Hannibal’s hand landed hard across Will’s ass, making him whimper in pain and humiliation.

“Hannibal, please,” Graham whispered, “I promise, whatever I did, I’ll…”

Large fingers were suddenly on his throat, pulling him upward, squeezing his windpipe, the other arm across his chest, hand painfully clawing into his pectoral muscle, thumb hooked over his collar bone.

“I warned you.” Lecter seethed, grabbing the gun and pressing it to Will’s lips.

The man was nearly writhing in his arms, his cuffed wrists rubbing against Hannibal’s swelling cock. He almost sobbed in his effort to go silent, feeling the cold steel of gunmetal on his lips.

The doctor took three deep breaths, watching his prey succumb to his fate. Watching his chest rise and fall. Tears streaming down his face. 

“You know,” he smirked, assessing his victim, and lowering the gun, “I’ve thought of a better use for you.”

Will nearly pissed himself in relief.

Graham couldn’t see where he put the gun, but suddenly felt hands at his own waist again. He looked down, and saw delicate fingers undoing his belt, pulling it through its confines. The supple leather glided along his hips, nearly burning in its wake. 

To both his astonishment and shame, his cock stirred at the feeling. 

Hannibal bodily hauled him back away from the car, and keeping one hand on him at all times, opened the door to the back seat.

Will’s stomach leapt into his mouth. He felt bile rising in his throat. This was it. He was either going to be tortured, killed, or both. His breath was erratic.

“Shhh….” Hannibal held the small man against his own chest, a hand to his forehead, almost soothing. He was warm, solid. He smelled like expensive aftershave and clean linen.

“My dear, dear William,” his hands pinched cruelly along the crest of his pelvis, forcing him to bend forward, face down, onto the long seat. 

The doctor smirked at the delightful image in front of him. The young man fighting for purchase with his feet, awkwardly bending his knees to rest precariously on the edge of the frame, lewdly spread. 

He took the belt and formed a slip-knot of sorts, feeding the punched end of the belt through its own buckle, but not fastening it. Simply letting it form a large, easily tightened loop, gently placing the leather noose around the young profiler’s neck. 

Will froze. The seat cushion gave way slightly under his weight, creaking and wheezing against his chest. He turned his head to the side, feeling the leather tighten around his throat. Not enough to choke him, but the threat was there.

“Now isn’t this a pretty picture?” Hannibal mused as he began to pull down the young man’s pants, exposing his ass. 

Graham gasped, and immediately began to fidget, trying desperately to roll over; to crawl, to prolong the climax of this nightmare. His cock dug into the seat; the friction sending sparks across his vision. 

The doctor gave a warning tug to the belt, and the young man felt his breath catch; barely able to swallow given the constriction. He stilled again. 

Hands resumed their task, making swift work of his pants, letting them chafe roughly against his dick as they were pulled down, exposing him fully. 

Hannibal placed the tail of the belt between his own teeth, causing Will to raise his head slightly to avoid choking. He grabbed a globe in each hand and drove Will’s body forward roughly along the seat towards the other side of the car, simultaneously spreading his cheeks.

The buttons of Graham’s shirt dug into his skin, and he felt his own weight now unevenly distributed; fighting for balance. 

Transferring the belt back into his hand, Lecter lowered his face to Will’s, inhaling his scent; one hand on his ass, the other on the small of his back, pulling his shirt upward. He kissed the younger man’s ear, licked a stripe up his neck, and gently bit down on the soft, tender flesh on his side, directly below his rib cage. Will yelped, and bent sideways at the assault.

He was reprimanded with a jolt to the throat, causing him to cough.

“This will be easier if you hold still,” the doctor warned, now fondling Will’s balls, enjoying their weight in his hand. “I could easily take these off you…” he pulled on the delicate sac, “sautee them in a dark plum sauce, or perhaps brandy.” 

Will was twitching, sweating, and shivering all at once. His skin felt slick against the seat. 

Hannibal reached around his middle, and tore at the young man’s shirt, exposing his chest. He tweaked a nipple, rolling the pink nub between his thumb and forefinger.

The young brunette curled inward, one leg landing on the floor of the car. With some effort, he wiggled, using the leverage of his foot to kick off and roll onto his back. The belt now doubly wrapped around his neck, and his body weight against his hands made the cuffs dig in even more. 

In a bolt of panic, he raised his knees and kicked out against the large man draped over him, landing a foot square on his chest. He dragged his shoe sideways, leaving a dark smear and tearing off a button as he kicked again.

The man was solid muscle and barely moved under the assault. A mad glint in his eye as he looked from Will, to the smear, and back to Will again. 

*SLAP* The doctor backhanded the profiler across the face. A spot of blood trickled out the left corner of his mouth. 

“I liked that shirt,” he drawled, now pausing to assess the idiot of a man lying at his mercy.

Will could hear the fluid whooshing in his ears, and held his breath for what felt like ages; watching in horror as the taller man studied him. His powers of speech dissolved to nothing. 

With feline-esque grace and speed, Hannibal shoved Will back against the far side door, so his back was stuck in the divet between the seat and the door panel itself. He then looped the tail end of the belt through the adjoining door handle, knotting it at the end, preventing Will from moving too far forward or upward if he tried.

Graham’s chest heaved as Hannibal crawled on top of him.

The taller man clawed roughly at Will’s abdomen, making him arch upward, hips crashing against his captor’s. Both of them gasping.

Hands roved over his naked torso; pinching, scratching and kneading against nipples, ribs and delicate hip bones.

Will bucked up, mewling loudly as fingers palmed his length, teasing the head of his cock, probing his ass. 

“That goddamn mouth of yours,” Hannibal moaned. 

He adjusted the belt so it was now between Will’s teeth, and around the back of his skull, like a bridle’s bit, scraping against the fragile corners of his lips. 

“That’s better,” he whispered, placing a kiss to the young man’s forehead, resuming his explorations. 

Will could barely breathe. The leather in his mouth tasted bitter and almost smokey. His eyes burned with tears and sweat. 

The doctor undid his own pants, and gave his own cock a few luxurious strokes, watching Graham’s pupils dilate, consuming his ocean irises.

“So you like what you see, you fucked up little pervert?” Lecter cooed, grinding his dick against Will’s and enjoying the tease of the squirming body against his own. 

The young man was astoundingly hard, and clenched his eyes shut in shame, precome leaking from his tip as Hannibal’s fingers pressed into his hot channel. He could smell the musty scent of wine on the doctor’s breath.

Lecter aligned himself with his young colleague, taking the man’s legs, wrapping them around his waist as he eased forward, breaching the ring of muscle. Hands came to rest on Will’s taught shoulders. 

“Mmph...Nunf...Pl…” was all Will could manage before Hannibal fully sheathed himself within his young victim’s body. The words would have at least been semi-understandable had he been capable of coherent thought.

Graham cried out in pain, lurching forward, momentarily restrained, and gagging on the makeshift leash. 

Hannibal thrust again, and again, rearing his head back, breathing heavily. The windows began to fog. 

Will’s skin slid awkwardly along the seat beneath him as he listened to the wet slapping sounds of his captor pistoning in and out of his body. His dick bobbed, painting glistening streaks across his navel with each jolt.

Pain lanced through his spine for an instant, before pleasure began to consume him. His mind tried to drift, in effort to protect him, but teeth bit down hard against the shell of his ear, making him hiss and return to reality.

Hannibal looked like a sadistic god; the planes of his chest slick and glowing as he arched his back, clenching his own ass, driving himself deeper into Graham; one hand to Will’s throat, the other now in the brunette’s hair, holding his gaze.

He was ramming hard into Will now, nearly shoving him against the door with every thrust. 

The doctor watched the young man coming undone. The complicated and tormented mind succumbing to what it couldn’t control. He saw Will’s eyes rolled back in his head as jolts of electricity shot through him with every one of his thrusts pulsing against his overly sensitized bundle of nerves.

Hannibal spasmed, and shot himself fully into Will, groaning and rutting upward through his aftershocks. 

He let himself soften before pulling out and collapsing against Graham, feeling the younger man’s cock still rock hard. They laid there for a few strikingly silent moments.

Both breathless, Hannibal undid the belt from the door, assessing Will’s breathing and color. Satisfied, he crushed his lips to Graham’s in a tender kiss. Helping sit the young man up, he gently undid the cuffs, checking for any substantial damage.

Will was panting, and a bit dizzy.

He looked up at Hannibal through his long, dark lashes. Hannibal stroked his hair.

“Mmmmh?” Will managed, pathetically.

“You were perfect darling.” 

The younger man rubbed at his wrists, trying to ignore his still aching cock.

“So, you’re just gonna leave me here with blue balls?” He quipped, watching Hannibal ease himself out of the car. The ever elegant gentleman.

The doctor eyed him hungrily. 

“I do believe I have room for dessert...if you behave.” 

“Are you fucking kidding??” Will moaned, clamouring out of the car, trying to reassemble what was left of his clothing with some shred of dignity, given the cold, dark parking lot.

Hannibal turned, and his face went gravely serious. “I told you, these fantasies of yours are completely normal.” He watched Will struggling with the buttons of his shirt, as half of them were gone.

“And in this particular fantasy, it would be...inaccurate... and bad form, given factual criminal evidence...if I were to ‘finish you off.’

He handed the belt back to Will, stifling a laugh at the young man’s frustration.

Will followed him to the door.

“Pervert,” he mumbled.

Will jumped as Hannibal once again smacked his ass, as they re-entered the dining room.


End file.
